


Four Years Falling

by EdgarAllenPoet



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adopted Keith (Voltron), Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, Human Thace, Human Ulaz, Hunk (Voltron) is so Pure, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Lance and Keith should not be unsupervised, Military Families, Teenage Rebellion, dads of marmora, for now, i think, it's mild though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 01:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12519640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgarAllenPoet/pseuds/EdgarAllenPoet
Summary: "Keith sighed and wondered if he could sneak in the back window without his dads noticing.  It was going to be a long night."





	1. Freshman Year

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't think I was actually gonna write this, but jess-jessitiz nudged me over the edge

Keith hadn’t had any intention of leaving the house on Halloween.  He had a great set up.  A bowl of candy near the front door, a place on the couch close enough that he barely had to stand up to reach trick or treaters, and a Nightmare on Elm Street marathon loaded for the night.  He’d found seven of the eight movies at a Goodwill a few weeks ago, and he was finally taking advantage of it.

 

Or at least that had been the plan.

 

His dads were getting ready for a party they were going to attend at the base Ulaz worked at.  They should be gone until at least midnight, and Keith was so ready.

 

Or... that had been the plan.

 

“Change of plans,” Thace announced as he clambered down the stairs, footsteps heavy on the hardwood.  “We’re staying home.”

 

Night= ruined.

 

“What?” Keith asked, twisting around on the couch. “Why?”

 

“Don’t sound so excited to be with your parents,” Thace grumbled sarcastically.  “I told someone not to drink the milk that expired yesterday, but of course his highness knows better.”  

 

“Put a sock in it!” Ulaz shouted from somewhere upstairs.

 

“Mister twelve years of medical school can’t figure out that spoiled milk is bad for you.”  Thace pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Ah, well.... you’re free to go, kid.  You don’t have to watch the door.”

 

Wait, what?  Keith spared a glance back at the TV, then up at his father.  “Um....”

 

“Oh no,” Thace said, and Keith sighed. He knew that look.  “This is how you intend to spend your Halloween?  Keith, we’ve talked about this.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You need to make an effort to get out there.  Interact with people.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Have some fun while you’re still young.”

 

“I _know_ , dad.”

 

Thace crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, and Keith knew he’d already lost and was inching very close to an attitude lecture.

 

“Fine,” he said, standing up.  “I’ll go.  Geez.”

 

“Watch it,” Thace warned with a pointed finger.  “Take a pillow case, get some candy.  Go have fun and stop moping around my house.”

 

He let his father smack a kiss onto the top of his head, and minutes later he was darting out the door, his father’s voice shouting, “Keith Kogane, put a jacket on for the love of God!” following him out the door.

The streets were covered with people, which was the biggest thing Keith had been hoping to avoid that evening.  ‘Go out and make friends,’ Thace said, as if that was easy.  He’d been giving the same advice since Keith was in fourth grade, and it never did him any good.  Keith wasn’t made to interact with people.  He just wasn’t any good at it.

 

Okay, that was only mostly true.  But he couldn’t call Shiro to hang out tonight, because Shiro was cool and got invited to parties and was going to spend the whole night chugging cheap beer and listening to the Black Eyed Peas.  Shiro wouldn't really want to hang out with him anyways.  He was just nice. He’d text Keith the address if he asked, but a crowded house full of strangers and loud music sounded worse than his present situation, and his parents would probably kill him.  

 

No, not probably, definitely.  While Thace and Ulaz were the nicest people he’s ever met, Keith had realized very shortly after being adopted that he couldn’t get away with anything.  Eight year old him had been a little frustrated.  Current day Keith was used to it.

 

He wandered down the street, away from the houses where his neighbors knew his name, and headed a block over.  He might as well try to get candy then, even if he was way too old for trick or treating.  This was so ridiculous.  He was kind of regretting not bringing his ear buds with him.  At least then he’d have something to do.

 

He rounded the corner, past the house with the little rat dogs who liked to chase Keith on his bike, and towards the house with the concrete encased mailbox.  The guy who lived there had been absolutely livid when his mailbox had been smashed not once, but four times in one summer.  He’d blamed Keith for that, pounding on their front door and getting into a very loud conversation with Ulaz about what happened when _their type_ raised kids.

 

It was just because they were new to the area, and apparently the mailbox smashing started right after they moved in.  That and the ‘rock throwing incident.’  Thace didn’t like to talk about the rock throwing incident.

 

In the end, it was some drunk college kid who was home for the summer that did all the smashing.  And Thace always told him he was going to grow up before college. Liar.

 

The next block over was a bit more crowded, full of small children in colorful costumes running around and screaming in the dusk of the evening.  The street lights were on already, encasing the entire street in a yellow tint.  The air smelled like bottle rockets, and the several of the houses were decked out in orange Christmas lights.  Halloween lights?  Yeah, that made more sense.

 

Some animated Halloween decoration cackled like a witch nearby, and Keith watched as a four foot tall Optimus Prime tackled Winnie the Pooh off of somebody’s front porch.

 

He sighed and wondered if he could sneak in the back window without his dads noticing.  It was going to be a long night.

 

“Oye, Jamie!  Don’t run with your mask on!” a voice shouted right behind him, and that was the only warning Keith had before something crashed into him from behind and sent him sprawling onto the asphalt.

 

“Ah!”

 

“Sorry!”

 

“Jamie!”

 

Keith groaned and pushed himself up on his arms, but then the little body on top of him decided it was time to get up and kicked him in the ribs in this effort to do so.

 

“Ow,” Keith groaned.  He’d scraped his hands raw trying to catch himself, and his knee stung where it smacked into the ground.  He pushed himself up to his feet and wiped his hands off on his pants, leaving two coppery smears in their wake.  Oops.

 

“Hey man, you okay?  Jamie, apologize!”

 

“My bad!” chirped a tiny Spider-man, with his mask bunched up on his forehead and three teeth missing from the front of his mouth.  He promptly smacked the arm of the girl next to him, and shouted, “Gotcha!” before sprinting off down the street.  The girl, who was wearing a basketball uniform and a pair of welding goggles took off after him in a blur, and the tallest person among them sighed audibly and smacked a hand over his eyes.

 

He dropped his hand to cup his mouth and yelled something after them in spanish.  He spoke really fast, and Keith hadn’t taken enough spanish classes to make his words out yet, but the kids ignored him anyways, so maybe it didn’t matter.

 

The boy sighed again, and then seemed to notice Keith standing in front of him for the first time.  “Oh!” he said, loud and sudden.  “Um… I’m sorry about them.  Oh jeez, you’re bleeding.”

 

Keith looked down at his palms and shrugged.  “It’s fine,” he said, crouching and picking his dirty pillow case up off the ground.  The kid in front of him had obviously been out for a while, judging by the grocery bag tied to his belt loop that bulged with candy.  He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, puffing his cheeks out and raising his eyebrows as he did so.

 

“So… hi.”  He pulled his hand back out of his hoodie pocket and stuck it out, apparently for a handshake.  “I’m Lance.”

 

Keith looked down at his own bloody palms and considered his options. Lance followed his gaze and seemed to catch on.  

 

“Oh,” he said.  “Right.”

 

“Yeah,” Keith said.  

 

“Hey!” a third voice piped up from across the street as a chubby boy with a plastic pumpkin and a Naruto headband jogged over to him.  “I’m Hunk,” he said, introducing himself and shifting the tiny person he was holding in his arms, a little girl with cat whiskers and a pacifier.  

 

Keith introduced himself, giving his name and nothing else.  He felt uncomfortable with all the new people he was talking to, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.  He wasn't even wearing a Halloween costume, and somehow  _that_ made him feel like an idiot.

 

“Want to finish this block with us?” Lance offered, holding his hands out for the little girl and taking her from his friend’s arms, setting her up on his shoulders instead.  She grabbed onto his hair with two chubby fists and blinked owlishly at Keith.

 

It wasn’t like Keith had anything better to do, and his dads were getting kind of anxious about him making friends.  He had no way of knowing if Lance and Hunk went to his school, or if they were even in the same grade, but at least they seemed to live around the neighborhood somewhere.  “Sure,” he agreed, and followed them off down the street.

  
  


…

  


It wasn’t until they dropped Lance’s little cousins off at his house that Keith realized he was dressed like a shark.  As soon as Lance passed the toddler off to the young woman waiting in the doorway, he launched himself off the front and tossed his hood over his head.

 

He was wearing a blue and grey one piece, with a fin sticking out the back and the hood pointed at the top, white felt teeth sticking out and surrounding his head.  He started singing the Jaws theme song and snuck after Hunk, who paced nervously out of the front yard.

 

“Now what?” Hunk asked.  The sun had gone down a little over half an hour ago, and all the trick or treaters and their parents were returning home for the night.  Porch lights shut off one by one down the block, and the streets were left empty.  

 

It didn’t seem like anyone else their age lived in the area, or if they _did_ , their parents hadn’t forced them out of the house for the evening.  

 

Lance stood up a bit taller and tapped his finger against his chin.  “You know what I’ve _always_ wanted to do?” he asked, leaning in against Hunk and batting his eyelashes.  Lance was weird, Keith had quickly come to realize.  He was very loud and in your space and moved around a lot.  He liked to throw his hands when he talked and did cartwheels when he got bored, and he was _constantly_ hanging off of Hunk like wet laundry.

 

Towards his merit, Hunk didn’t seem to mind.

 

Now though, he grimaced and shot Lance a side-eyed glance.  “Oh no….”

 

“Oh _yes_.”

 

“Oh what?” Keith asked, not wanting to be left out of whatever was making Hunk cringe like that.  A mischievous smile spread its way over Lance’s face, and he pulled away from Hunk to lean in closer to Keith.

 

They’d determined earlier in the evening that they all went to the same high school, were all freshman, and somehow even had the same lunch period.  Keith had been sorted into a fewer of the higher level classes, like sophomore geometry and honors bio, and Hunk excitedly told him that _he_ was in geometry too, as well as a mechanics class that Keith was really curious to learn more about.  Lance hadn’t talked too much about his own classes.

 

But it made sense, then, when Lance leaned his arm on Keith’s shoulder and asked, “Do you know Iverson?”

 

Keith _did_ know Iverson, not because he had any classes with him, but because he’d yelled at Keith for having his hood up in the halls and threatened him with a detention.  Keith had heard him yelling at numerous other people as well, and he’d learned from Shiro that Iverson taught the upper level history classes.  

 

Keith was… not looking forward to that.

 

“Yeah,” he said, and Lance’s smirk turned deadly.

 

“He lives here,” he said, speaking like he had a secret.  Hunk actually let out a whine.

 

“Dude, if we get caught, we are _dead_ .  You remember when we flooded your kitchen?  Your mom is _scary_ , Lance, she’ll _kill us_.”

 

“My mom isn’t gonna find out,” Lance whispered back, throwing a glance over his shoulder at his house like he was expecting her to be standing there watching.  “Don’t be a baby, Hunk.”

 

“But-”

 

“What about you, Keith?  Your mom scary?” Lance asked, waving aside his friend’s complaints.  Keith thought about Ulaz on the day of the rock throwing incident and swallowed a shudder.  Ulaz was definitely more reserved than Thace was, but he was also more laid back.  So when Ulaz got angry, that meant someone _really_ crossed the line, and his drill sergeant voice was not something Keith wanted to experience in the near future.

 

But Thace had told him to put himself out there, and whatever Lance was suggesting felt a hell of a lot like some kind of hazing.  A rite of passage.  If Keith went home now, that was it, game over.

 

“Nah,” he answered eventually, and it wasn’t even a lie.  Partly because he didn’t have a mom, but Lance and Hunk didn’t need to know that just yet.  Keith wasn’t ashamed of his family, and he’d go head to head with anyone who suggested he _should_ be, but Lance and Hunk seemed cool.  Keith wasn’t in the mood to get into it.

 

Partly because as scary as Ulaz and Thace _could_ be, he knew there wasn’t any real danger.  He’d been in bad situations before, and Ulaz and Thace weren’t one of them.  They’d never put him there again.

 

It had been hard to understand at first, but there was nothing to actually be afraid of.

 

But that was more stuff Lance and Hunk didn’t need to know about.  Lance beamed like the sun shining and actually jumped up and down a few times while Hunk’s frown widened and his shoulders actually slumped.

 

“ _Fine_ ,” he conceded.  “But it’s your fault if we get caught, Lance.”

 

“We won’t.  Trust me.”

 

“What are we even doing?” Keith asked them, getting Lance’s smirk turned back his way.

 

“Oh, you’ll see,” he said, and took off around the side of his house towards the backyard.  Hunk sighed and ambled after him, and Keith followed along curiously.  Whatever this was, he wasn’t going to miss it.  How bad could it actually be?

  


…

  


“Go on, do it,” Lance whispered, shoving at Keith’s shoulder so that he stumbled forwards and had to quickly dart back into his hiding place behind the fence.

 

“Are you _kidding me_?” he hissed back.

 

“Do it, do it, do it!” Lance chanted, and Keith dropped his head into his hands.  “Here, put the mask on in case you get caught.”  Lance shoved a wad of black fabric into Keith’s hands and smiled like a cheshire cat under the pale light of a street lamp.  Keith looked between Lance and the fabric, and between the morose face Hunk was wearing in the background.

 

“What good will a mask do if he catches me?”

 

“Punch him and run,” Lance suggested, which, hey, wasn’t the worst idea ever.  “Come on, man, don’t be a chicken.”

 

“I’m not-”

 

“Prove it!”

 

They’d already done the hardest part, which was wrapping Iverson’s car up in toilet paper.  Lance had snuck into his house through his basement window and snagged a couple rolls of toilet paper, his older brother’s ‘ninja’ mask from a few Halloweens ago, and a brown paper bag.

 

Apparently Lance’s family had a pair of very large golden retrievers.  Keith was not thrilled about what was in the bag he was holding.

 

Still, Lance was practically vibrating with energy, and he’d already issued the dare.  They’d gotten this far.  He couldn’t back out _now_.

 

“Fine,” he snapped, and tugged the mask on over his head.  He could see surprisingly well through the thin fabric, and he was grateful for that as he crept around the fence and up Iverson’s driveway on cat feet, tennis shoes not making a sound against the concrete.  

 

It as the moment of truth when he got to the front door.  He set the bag down and was about to proceed to step two before he remembered something amazing.  They _were_ just going to leave it there, but Keith had found a lighter on the ground earlier that night, dropped and forgotten after someone was finished setting off bottle rockets.  Keith fished the thing out of his pocket and flicked it a few times, until a flame danced on the end.  He grinned at it, shot a look back out to the fence, and lit the top of the bag on fire.

 

Keith’s heart was pounding as he shot up, slammed his hand down on the door bell, and threw himself off the stoop.  His feet pounded against the driveway as he booked it, and the front door opening cast a sliver of light onto the driveway as Iverson threw the door open.

 

“What the hell!?” Keith heard him shout, and then, “Hey!  Stop!”  

 

There was no way in hell Keith was stopping.  He flung himself around the fence and sprinted off down the sidewalk, where Lance and Hunk had already fled.  He couldn’t see them, but they said they’d be there, and Keith was deciding to trust them tonight.

 

He got half a block before a hand shot out from behind a car and grabbed him, startling a yelp out of him as Lance yanked him sideways and sent them both tumbling into the grass of some stranger’s front lawn.  

 

Keith sat up on his elbows and looked down the street in the direction he’d came, watched through a thin plot of trees as an orange dot sailed across Iverson’s front lawn and landed with a splat near the side of the road.  Lance let out a snort, and then the dam broke as he threw his head back and started openly cackling.  Keith immediately slapped his palm down over Lance’s mouth, his hoodie sleeve falling to his finger and doing a great job of muffling Lance’s noises.

 

“Shut _up_ ,” he hissed.  “Do you _want_ to get us caught?”

 

They stayed there on the front lawn, eyes fixed to the house just a few acres away, pressed close together and sharing body heat that the cold, mildewy grass threatened to steal away from them.  Eventually, Keith was sure that the wretched history teacher wasn’t going to come storming down the street after them.  He rolled up to his feet and tugged Lance up with him.  

 

“Where’s Hunk?” he asked, and Lance rolled his eyes as dramatically as seemed possible.

 

“Got a text from his mom and went home,” Lance answered.  “He missed _all_ the fun.  Iverson totally saw you!”

 

“Oh my God, it was like he was waiting at the door!”

 

“I didn’t know you could run that fast!”

 

They trudged their way through the wet grass and off down the street, heading away from Iverson and back in the direction of Keith’s house.  There was another patch of woods, and a short drop off leading down to a pond that Keith wanted to spend a lot more time investigating at some point.  No street lights lit up that area, and Keith did his best to keep his back straight and his eyes ahead and pretend it wasn’t totally freaking him out.

 

Lance’s voice might have sounded kind of tight when he spoke next, or Keith might have been imagining it.  Either way, he asked, “Can we head back to your place?  I’ll call my mom, tell her where I am.  She probably thinks I went to Hunk’s.”

 

Keith had no idea what time it was, and his phone had died hours ago.  He nodded and said, “Yeah, it’s not far from here,” and started the trek towards home.

  
  
  


…

  


Keith’s parents were waiting for him the second he opened the door.  

 

“Keith Kogane,” Thace’s voice rang out, “When I said to go out I did _not_ mean till midnight, young man, where on Earth have you-”  Keith pushed the door the rest of the way open and dragged a wide-eyed Lance in by his arm.  The second Thace saw them, he stopped short, stern expression melting away to one of mild confusion, and then something much happier.

 

“ _Oh,_ ” he said.  “Hello.”

 

“Dads, this is my friend Lance,” Keith introduced, tugging Lance farther into the house and motioning to the two men in front of them.  They took up the whole hallway, standing side by side, the both of them a little over six foot and broad shouldered.  Ulaz stood there silently, arms crossed over his chest, acting as ‘back up’ the way he did when he wasn’t actually upset about something, just trying to support Thace.  

 

“Lance, these are my dads, Thace and Ulaz Marmora.”  He motioned between the two and gave a bored shrug, then shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and said, “Sorry it’s so late.  My phone died.”

 

“It’s nice to meet you, sirs,” Lance said next to him, voice a higher pitch than it had been earlier.  He stepped forward and held a hand out politely for a handshake, just like he did when meeting Keith earlier.  Ulaz took his hand and shook it with a bemused expression on his face.  Thace was making a face that meant he was very pleased with his manners.

 

“I live down the street a ways,” Lance explained, filling in the holes that Keith hadn’t even thought to.  “Keith helped me take my younger siblings trick or treating, and we lost track of time playing video games at my place.  We were wondering if it would be okay if I spent the night here?  My mom loaned out my bedroom.”

 

Lance sure did talk a lot, but at least it made it easier to have conversations with him.  Thace was still making that ‘happy about manners’ face at least, though he shot Keith a raised eyebrow look after Lance finished his request.

 

Oh.  Right.  “Please?” Keith asked, and Thace sighed, giving in.  He looked over his shoulder at Ulaz, who grinned and shrugged, and turned back to the boys in front of him.  

 

“I don’t see why not,” he said, and Keith took that permission and ran, grabbing Lance by the arm again and pulling him off towards the stairs.  Thace’s voice followed after him, saying, “But we will be having a conversation about curfews tomorrow, Keith!”

 

“Okay,” Keith said, not caring a whole lot at the moment.  He'd never had a curfew before.  They thundered up the stairs, and Keith hit the light switch by the door as he lead his way in.  

 

“And keep your door _open_ , please.”

 

Keith groaned and pressed his hand over his eyes, embarrassed and hoping Lance wouldn’t take that the wrong way.  Wouldn’t think Keith was weird or creepy or coming on to him.  People acted weird sometimes, but from the way Lance hadn’t faltered a moment when being introduced to his parents, Keith was really kind of hoping he wasn’t one of them.

 

He looked up when Lance laughed, sitting on Keith’s bed and bouncing slightly, his smile wide and eyes lighting up like a jack-o-lantern.  He turned that hundred watt smile on Keith, and it was kind of breathtaking.

 

Oh, no.

 

“Cool room,” Lance said, “Can I borrow pajamas?  And also a phone?  My mom will _kill_ me if I make her worry too long.”

 

“Right.  Totally.”  Keith fished his cell phone out of his pocket and jammed it onto it’s charging cable on the desk, trying not to get distracted by Lance picking up a model airplane and cooing at it.  He choked back a grin and turned to his dresser.

 

Maybe Thace hadn’t quite ruined Halloween after all.

 

“Lights out soon!” Thace called, and Keith sighed loudly.  

 

“Yes sir,” Lance called back, and Keith shook his head at him.  Ridiculous.  Way more polite than he needed to be.

  
Thace and Ulaz were going to _love_ him.


	2. Sophomore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " ‘Doesn’t play well with others’ had always been the main concern. "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had several ideas for this chapter and decided to write all of them. Watch me accidentally project my childhood personality onto eight year old Keith. Oops.

Thace met Keith when he was eight years old.  

 

“I’m not so sure,” the social worker in charge of the state home Keith was living in had told him.  “He might not be a great fit.  He’s difficult.  Doesn’t get along well with others.  We’ve only had him a few months-” 

 

“I want to meet him,” Ulaz had interrupted, voice determined and far past taking no for an answer.  That had been a bit of a surprise.   _ Thace _ was always the more eager one when it came to the adoption.  Thace had brought it up first, had started to slip it into casual conversation after their first two years of marriage.  Thace had even been the one to make all the calls and appointments, but there and in the moment, when Thace was beginning to hesitate at the social worker’s warnings, Ulaz was the one pushing through. 

 

There was something sweet to be said about that, Thace thought.  Ulaz’s family had thrown him out when he was a teenager.  Maybe he was eager to make up for their mistakes. 

 

The little boy they were introduced to was quiet and angry and every bit as stubborn as they’d been warned to expect.  He was also thoughtful and creative and passionate about a lot of things.  Once they got him talking, there didn’t seem to be an end to it, and Thace now knew more about the Power Rangers than he’d ever expected to as an adult. 

 

It had taken them a solid week to get Keith to smile at them, and a little longer than that to coax out actual conversations.  But it was all delicate, and they were patient with him.  When Thace showed Keith the adoption papers, Keith had burst into tears and clambered into the both of their laps to hug them. 

 

That, in itself, had been a milestone. 

 

Eight years had gone by, and Keith was still every bit as stubborn as the day they’d met, still reserved and quiet, but now with an extra splash of piss and vinegar.  Sometimes the things that came out of his mouth made it  _ clear _ that he was  _ Ulaz’ _ s child.  Now every time Thace saw his mother, he was tempted to apologize for his own adolescent behavior and beg her to give him advice. 

 

As it was, he had a little too much pride for that. 

 

‘Doesn’t play well with others’ had always been the main concern.  Thace had heard it time and time again, in the reports from past foster parents and teachers, to uncomfortable parent-teacher conferences at school.  

 

‘He’s a bright kid,’ they told him, in fourth and fifth and seventh grade.  ‘But he won’t interact with the other children.’  He’d heard it in meetings with elementary school principals, after he’d been called in because of fights on the playground.  He’d held his sobbing child in his arms and kissed away bruises and listened to questions he didn’t know the answer to, about “Why don’t the other kids  _ like me _ ?” 

 

As the years went on, the fights got better but the rest of it stayed the same.  Thace would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried.  He hadn’t had high hopes for their move a year prior, not seeing how a simple translocation would turn things around and make things easier for his son. 

 

But Keith was apparently  _ always _ ready to try and prove Thace wrong.  The little fucker had gone out and made himself friends. 

 

It had been rocky at first, but Thace was grateful to finally have helpful advice.  “What does it mean when someone says….?” and “But he wants to hang out  _ all the time _ ” were easier than Keith’s usual questions, and as irritated as the boy pretended to be with his new companions, Thace could definitely tell he was happier. 

 

Thace, in turn, had never been happier for him. 

 

“Doesn’t play well with others,” Thace said to Ulaz as he wandered into the kitchen.   Keith and Lance were taking up the living room, laying on top of each other and fast asleep like a couple of puppies, a South Park marathon forgotten on the TV.  

 

Thace had to wonder when their child had started watching  _ that _ , or if the boys realized exactly how obvious they were about each other.  He doubted it.  Keith got terribly embarrassed whenever Thace and Ulaz brought it up, insisting that “It’s not  _ like that _ , Dad,  _ God,” _ because of course Thace and Ulaz were parents and thus knew absolutely nothing about this stuff. 

 

“I want to print out this picture and shove it up that social worker’s ass,” Ulaz said, showing off a picture of the sleeping boys on the screen of his cellphone.  Thace chuckled and swatted at Ulaz’s shoulder, pretending to disapprove.  He couldn’t have agreed more. 

  
  


….

  
  


………

  
  


……

 

The first time Thace met Lance’s mother it was a beautiful afternoon in September.  Keith had rolled out of bed sometime around eleven a.m., and he’d called out a ‘good morning’ before disappearing out the back door with a package of Poptarts shoved in his hoodie pocket.  Ah, that was fine.  Keith liked being outside, and he’d been known to disappear for the better part of the day for as long as Thace had known him.  When he was little, it was confined to the sprawling backyard they’d had in South Carolina, which was fenced in on all sides and let Thace keep an eye on him while he ran around and explored. 

 

The yard here was open and met a few acres of woods at their back fence line.  There were patches of trees all over their neighborhood, and the houses were far enough apart to allow everyone privacy, even with kids running amuck everywhere.  

 

The only real trouble Keith had ever gotten himself into was falling out of a tree and breaking his wrist.  That was the day Thace had met Hunk, who Lance  _ insisted _ carry Keith all the way back to their house, despite Keith’s protesting that he hurt his ‘ _ arm, Lance, not my legs, that doesn’t even make sense!’ _

 

Thace was mostly just grateful that Keith spent his time outside instead of hunched over a videogame all day.  

 

Wow… he really was starting to sound old, thinking like that. 

 

Oh well. 

 

Eventually the sound of voices could be heard filtering through the kitchen window, and Thace let Keith and Lance’s friendly bickering be background noise as he cleaned out the fridge and tried to figure out why they had  _ three _ tubs of yogurt when Ulaz didn’t even like yogurt and the other two people in the family were lactose intolerant. 

 

Keith and Lance had been making noise in the backyard for a good ten minutes before a lightbulb went off and Thace picked his head up.

 

“She has  _ no idea _ ,” Lance bragged.  “And so long as I’m back before two, she’ll never find out.” 

 

“Uh huh,” Keith drawled, obviously not believing him.  Keith had spent the better part of the week moping around the house after school and whining that Lance was grounded. 

 

‘ _ Till next Wednesday, _ ’ he complained once, throwing himself onto the couch and crossing his arms.   _ ‘At least he’s not around to  _ annoy _ me.’  _ Thace had had to shake his head at the level of denial his son was able to equip, but now that the conversation was back in his mind, it was pretty curious that Lance was in his backyard. 

 

He glanced out the kitchen window, and then at the calendar on the fridge.  Yep, definitely not Wednesday.  Damn it. 

 

If Lance hadn’t sounded so cocky about it, Thace might have let it slip and pretended not to notice.  As it was, he set aside the yogurt mystery and instead went to lean in the back doorway.  He crossed his arms and watched Lance drop kick a pine cone off into the distance.  He waited a few minutes, and when neither boy noticed him standing there, he cleared his throat. 

 

Keith whipped around in a way that told Thace everything he needed to know, and Lance stared up at him with wide eyes.

 

“Oh!” Lance said, obviously trying very hard to sound like he wasn’t up to something.  “H-hi Mr. Marmora.  How are you doing today?” 

 

Thace raised one eyebrow and watched Lance’s face fall.  “Does your mother know where you are right now?” he asked.  Keith sighed and dropped a hand over his eyes.  Lance grimaced. 

 

“Um… about that….” 

 

Thace suppressed a sigh and shook his head.  “Nope.  Come on.” 

 

Lance was a sweet kid, but he was also a sly one.  A year of watching the boy bounce around his house and eat his food and bicker with his son had taught him that Lance probably wouldn’t make his way back home unless Thace walked him there himself.  

 

So he did. 

 

Keith slumped along behind him, shooting him betrayed glances every few seconds, which Thace elected to ignore.  It wasn’t a far walk at all, and when they reached the drive way, Lance declared, “Okay, I’m home!  I’m just gonna go around the back-” 

 

“Nope,” he said, reaching out and snatching Lance’s ear with an elegance his mother would have adored.  Lance followed along easily enough, complaining quietly and clutching at Thace’s wrist, as Thace lead him up the driveway and right to the front door.  He knocked, and within seconds there was an answer. 

 

Lance’s mother opened the door with a gasp and proclaimed, “ _ Lance _ ! ¿Qué crees que haces?” and ushered her son through the door with a useless ‘thwack’ of a dish towel.  She shook her head with what seemed to be an exasperated sigh and turned to Thace. 

 

“Thank you,” she said.  A tiny head popped out between her and the door and peeked up at them with giant brown eyes.  She dropped her hand on the child’s head and pet their hair absent-mindedly.  “I ought to be more suspicious when the house is too quiet,” she joked, then asked, “He didn’t cause you too much trouble, did he?” 

 

Thace laughed and said, “Never has,” which was kind of a lie, but Lance was in enough trouble at the moment.  His mother seemed to understand, chuckling and rolling her eyes. 

 

“I’m sure.”  She leaned to the side a bit to shoot a pointed glance at Keith, who was still idling off the stoop a short distance behind Thace. 

 

“Hello, Keith,” she said, and Keith waved slightly, face burning red either from embarrassment of guilt or both.  

 

“Hi, Maria,” he responded with something that barely passed as a smile.  “...Sorry….” 

 

She shook her head and waved a hand at him.  “You aren’t the one who snuck out of my house.  His father said boy scouts was a  _ good _ idea, and what does he learn?  How to scale out of windows.”

 

“I’m sure he could have picked that up on his own, if he wanted,” Thace commented.  “He’s bright enough to figure it out.” 

 

Maria hummed quietly and nodded, a bit of a grin on her face.  “Thank you for returning him,” she said, holding her hand out.  Thace took it and shook.  Her handshake was stronger than he’d expected. 

 

“Of course.  It’s nice to meet you.” 

 

“You as well, Mr. Marmora.” 

 

“Call me Thace,” he responded, and headed back down the stairs, away from the house.  “Come on, kid.” 

 

“Adios, Keith.  Behave yourself.” 

 

“Yes ma’am,” Keith called back, and Thace was at least a little bit proud of his manners.  He shoved his son’s shoulder playfully, making him trip and stagger over sideways.  Keith squawked, then laughed and launched himself at Thace, shoving him heartily before taking off running down the street.  Thace laughed and ran after him, and it was a little bit harder than it used to be to grab him and toss him over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry, but he still managed it. 

 

“You’re so embarrassing,” Keith complained, no heat to his words.  

 

“That’s my job.  Race you home.” He dropped Keith carefully back onto his feet and took off towards home with a head start.  He wasn’t surprised when Keith still managed to beat him, young legs moving faster than Thace could ever hope his own would. 

 

He probably should have said something to Keith about how it wasn’t acceptable to harbor fugitives in the backyard, but he felt like he’d made his point well enough.  Besides, Keith was smiling and happy, and Thace couldn’t bring himself to interrupt that.

 

At least, not intentionally.  “Help in the kitchen?” he asked, and Keith groaned.  

  
  


….

 

…

 

…….

 

The last time Ulaz had gotten a call like this, Keith was in fifth grade.  That was the day they’d had a talk about how sometimes people said horrible things, but the best thing to do was to let them go.  Sometimes people weren’t going to understand, and if you couldn’t make them understand with your words, you didn’t try and do it with your fists.  

 

“B-but they said y-you were… were a….” Keith hadn’t even been able to choke the word out, and Ulaz had just hugged him against his side and told him he knew, and that the word was mean, but Ulaz had grown up to be used to it. 

 

“I’m a big boy,” he teased his son.  “I can handle it.”  In reality, it broke his heart that Keith cared enough to stand up for them.  He’d cleaned up Keith’s bloody lip and busted knuckles, pressed a bag of peas to his face, and texted Thace to clue him in before he got home. 

 

Middle school had stricter rules against fighting, and Keith had adapted well.  Ulaz had thought that was the end of it.  He hadn’t imagined it would be a problem in high school. 

 

But then his CO had appeared out of nowhere to bark, “Marmora!  Go pick up your kid,” and now Ulaz was pulling his cap off his head as he stepped into the school office and feeling like an absolute spectacle in his work uniform.  

 

Four kids sat in the chairs around him.  Two of them he recognized, and while Lance immediately jumped to his feet and all but shouted, “Mr. Marmora!  It totally wasn’t our fault!  We were just trying to-” going off on a tangent that barely made any sense, Keith slumped farther in his chair and kept his eyes glued firmly to the carpet in front of him.  He was a bit of a mess, and his hair was hanging over his eyes like a curtain, almost like he was hiding behind it.

 

Ulaz sighed and approached the secretary, ready to just sign Keith out and take him home. 

 

They passed Lance’s mother on their way out, and she gave him a friendly nod before continuing on her march, sweeping down the hallway the way only a mother on a mission could, holding a toddler on her hip. 

 

“You want to tell me what happened?” Ulaz asked once they’d gotten into the car, and was rewarded with something that could barely count as a shrug.  

 

Ulaz sighed and tried again.  “That’s not going to work,” he said.  “Come on, talk to me.” 

 

Keith sighed like a dying man and slumped even further in his seat, to the point that his seat belt would probably decapitate him if they got into an accident.  Ulaz drove a little bit slower than usual. 

 

“There’s this kid in my lunch period named Pidge,” Keith explained, and while Ulaz had been cursed with a bitch of a family name, he couldn’t help but think that was bizarre.  

 

“The kid in the office?” Ulaz asked, thinking back to the other two students who’d been sitting there.  One boy had looked pretty roughed up, and he’d been glaring daggers at Keith the entire time, so Ulaz imagined he wasn’t Pidge.  It must have been the little one, then, the boy with the glasses and freckles.

 

“Yeah,” Keith agreed, and he scowled darkly as he kept talking.  “People are really shitty to her, just because she dresses like a dude and is smarter than probably anyone else in that entire fucking school.” 

 

Thace would be having an aneurysm over Keith’s language, but Ulaz decided to let it go.  He’d said worse things himself just in casual conversation, and the things he’d heard from  _ Thace’s _ mouth when they were younger?  Yeah, no.  They had no room to judge. 

 

“So what happened?” Ulaz prompted, and Thace shoved himself up to sit properly and turned sideways to speak. 

 

“Some asshole knocked her tray out of her hands in front of the  _ entire _ cafeteria, and he called her a dyke and a tranny, and just…. I had to  _ do something _ , Ulaz….” 

 

Fair enough, Ulaz  would have done something too.  Even so…

 

“I didn’t hit him first, anyways,” Keith said, slumping back down in his seat and staring out the passenger window.  “I just told him off, and he tried to grab me, so I punched him in the throat.” 

 

_ That’s my boy _ , Ulaz thought to himself, and started mentally drafting a lecture about considering punching people someplace that  _ wasn’t _ potentially lethal.  But Keith was still pouting and staring off into the distance like Ulaz was driving him to his death, so he figured it was time to say something. 

 

“I’m not mad at you,” he said, noting the tangible  _ relief _ in Keith’s eyes.  “Shit, I’m proud of you.  I’m never going to punish you for defending yourself.” 

 

“But I got suspended….” Keith said, eyes holding an air of caution and words coming out in awe. 

 

Ulaz shrugged one shoulder and said, “Not the first time, and you didn’t start this one.” 

 

“Thace is gonna be mad….” 

 

Probably, but he was mostly going to be upset that Keith could have gotten himself hurt.  Ulaz was also a little upset about that, but honestly after so many years of knowing the kid, he should have been used to that by now. 

 

“Your father once bailed me out of jail for punching a security guard at a David Bowie concert and almost inciting a riot,” Ulaz said, wondering if he was going to regret telling Keith that story.  It surprised a smile out of him, at least, and that made it entirely worth it.  “He can get over it.” 

 

“Okay.”

 

“Want to hang out at the hospital with me?  It’s been slow.  The nurses could use the company.”

 

Ulaz glanced over when he heard Keith’s stomach grumble.  Ah, right.  He probably hadn’t gotten the chance to eat lunch.  He’d had his hands full. 

 

“McDonald’s first, then,” he decided.  “Don’t tell your father.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it ooc if the character was only on screen for a few minutes and was literally never in a situation near the one you’re writing? 
> 
> Also i headcanon that Keith calls Thace and Ulaz both by their first names or by ‘dad,’ just depending on the situation. They didn’t want to push anything when they adopted him, so they just let him decide what to call them, and it really helps clear up a bit of confusion that comes with having two people who respond to “dad” in the same house.


End file.
